BAD RAIN: A SCI-FICTION THRILLER

by Michael Mazzarelli

  At 6:00 p.m. Jeff was headed to take a shower before meeting Janet at 6:30 when he remembered Al’s request. He had taken the boots and shoes off in the garage when he got home and grabbed a plastic bag and headed to the garage to retrieve them. Jeff picked up the shoes first and put them in the bag, but when he went to pick up the rubber boots he noticed the bottoms of both were missing. It looked like someone had taken a knife and cut the complete bottoms off each boot. Then he remembered how the plastic cup started to disintegrate from the soil and thought the soil must have done the same to the boots.

  Immediately, he panicked— If the soil ate through the boots, maybe it went through the shoes to his feet. But that couldn’t be because it would first have to eat through the soles of his shoes, which was not the case. But the image of the coot with no feathers and large red sores on its skin came to mind, immediately conjuring up the idea of his feet with red welts and toes falling off.

  His hands couldn’t move quick enough to open the bag and check the shoes once again, this time to see if they had been affected. Much to his relief, the shoes showed no sign of disintegration. He looked around the debris-strewn garage and found a metal pail to carry the footwear, then went to his car and carefully, ever so carefully, placed the pail in the trunk.

  A shower was a foregone conclusion, and he couldn’t scrub his hands and feet hard enough.

  Just before leaving to meet Janet, he called Stan and told him to bring the shoes and boots worn earlier, forewarning him about what he might see if his boots were affected the same and giving the head’s up on his pail in the trunk.

  2

  JEFF SMILED AND WAVED TO JANET AS SHE DEPARTED from the plane. As pretty as ever, he remembered her in the same way as when he waved goodbye to her at Homestead a few years before. They exchanged greetings with a hug and because she brought only an overnight bag they headed directly to the Marriott.

  Checking in, she told the manager she was on official business and requested a suite with a conference table if possible. He confirmed one was available and blocked her name. This would make things a lot easier for tonight’s meeting and any subsequent needs, and Jeff quickly agreed.

  Once finished at check-in, they went to Delmin’s Restaurant were Jeff had reserved a table and quickly exchanged updates on their lives since Homestead. Soft drinks were brought by the waiter, along with a fresh mini-loaf of French bread. Both were surprised that neither had married nor were in a serious relationship at the moment. Janet was fascinated with Jeff’s hobby of chasing lightning storms, measuring the power of the strikes and taking pictures. She made him promise to show her some of his work before she left. The hour and a half had gone quickly and it was almost 8:00 p.m. when they finished dinner and headed to the lobby. Clare, Stan and Allen were waiting and after Jeff finished introducing everyone, they headed to Janet’s suite, Room 711.

  The suite was nice and, as requested, a substitute extra large conference table was already in the room. Like most Florida hotel rooms in the summer, the air was turned up all the way and it was just cool, not cold, but not uncomfortable. Next to the conference table was a small liquor cabinet, a sink, refrigerator and coffee maker.

  Once settled about the table, Jeff was the first to talk. “I don’t know what the chain of command will be here, but I’ll bring everyone up to date on events of the day and you guys can work out who’s in charge as we go along.” Once finished reviewing the devastation he had discovered and actions taken, he turned the meeting over for comments.

  Clare Russell from EPA spoke next. “Captain Sterno took me out to the site this afternoon, and it’s certainly nothing I have seen before or want to see again. I instructed Stan to have his FMP personnel rope off the area, so no one accidentally disturbs it. I also have a crew going out tomorrow to take full soil and water tests and pick up what is left of the dead wildlife for examination in the lab.

  “I’m pretty sure we can rule out any kind of chemical dump on the land. The modus operandi of such a thing just doesn’t ring right here. The area is too remote and big to be affected by someone in a boat.”

  Professor Brown spoke up. “I did some preliminary testing on the sample of soil Jeff provided. First indications are the soil is saturated with a very corrosive chemical and bacteria that cannot be identified. I say ‘cannot’ because it defies standard applications. I’m doing more tests and hope Clare’s team can help to that end.

  “To give you an example of what we’re dealing with here, I asked Jeff to bring the rubber boots he wore when initially walking the site this morning.

  “Jeff could we see the boots?”

  Jeff and Stan carefully lifted their respective rubber boots to the table top, placing both on a piece of wood Al brought and pushed the wood platter around so everyone could see the missing soles. Al told everyone not to touch any part of the boot, although he felt the corrosion had run its course, but he didn’t want to be held responsible for an oversight, as bacteria could surely still be present.

  Janet nodded, “Okay, let’s try and narrow this down. We know we have chemicals here and maybe a form of bacteria involved, but I don’t think it could be caused by anything on the ground. What about from the air? Could a tornado pick up something miles away and drop it at the site?

  “For instance, is the site in the flight approach to Orlando International Airport? Maybe even more to the point, in the military air corridor in any way? If so, could an airplane have dropped something to cause this? Either on purpose or by mistake? What if we have a radical group of terrorists testing some form of new chemicals or bacteria cocktail? Could that have been sprayed or dropped from a small plane? In which case, wouldn’t they have to inspect the ‘drop zone’ for results?

  “Since we don’t know what were dealing with here, I suggest the following. Clare and I should jointly head up this investigation. The EPA is responsible in Florida anyway and have jurisdiction over the area. But if we’re talking chemicals, bacteria and maybe terrorist intervention, then the FEDS are involved and that means the FBI, and I can take care of that. We also need to check out OIA, to see if their records show anything unusual on radar this morning, and that’s federal too.”

  Janet was making astute comments and raising serious questions, though it was clear everyone hoped for a lesser answer along the line of maybe pranksters or an explained accident. It was obvious she was experienced in dealing with authority and Clare could sense this.

  “Sounds fine with me,” Clare said, knowing she would rather have a federal employee dealing with the FBI and OIA. “I will have a team out at the site first thing in the morning, testing and researching the history of the property. I would also like Al to work with us since he has already done some tests, and we can compare notes.”

  “Great!” Janet responded. “Jeff and I will check out both the Doppler radar and OIA’s radar charts, then will notify the FBI. We’ll meet back here tomorrow at noon for an update.”

  “Stan, please have your people stay in the area and don’t let anyone in unless so authorized. Okay?” Clare added.

  Janet opened her briefcase and pulled out five Nextel cell phones, telling everyone to take one and showing how to use the two-way paging. “I want everyone to have these and if anything happens or you have new information, contact all of us immediately. Any questions?”

  Clare was bothered by Al’s comment on bacteria and asked, “Shouldn’t we contact someone about the unknown bacteria? I mean, I’m thinking here of responsibility.”

  Janet replied, “I’m sorry, Clare, my gut feeling was and is that this is not caused by any bacteria. If it were, we would see other signs of it showing up by now. But you are right. We should cover all bases here, everything, so have your people send samples to the CDC as soon as possible.”

  After everyone left, Janet looked at Jeff and said, “I’d like to see the site first thing in the morning. We should move fast on finding out what caused this. From there, I would like to go with you to have
you recheck the Doppler radar, then have you come with me to Orlando International Airport and check theirs.

  “You mind working with me again?” she said, smiling. Jeff half grinned and said it would be his pleasure.

  It was late and they needed sleep, so he suggested picking her up at 7:00 a.m., after his shift at the station. He gave her a hug and said, “You handled that impromptu like a real pro,” and opening the door and looking back, he said, “See you in the morning.”

  Early morning and right on time at the Marriott, Jeff remembered from Homestead that Janet liked high octane, black coffee and a glazed chocolate donut to start off the day when in a hurry. She was waiting at the hotel entrance as he pulled in and jumped into his car as soon as he stopped, reenergized with sleep and greeting him with a “Let’s get to work, pard.”

  A ten to fifteen minute ride to the fish camp wouldn’t take long, where Jeff had made arrangements with Stan to have a boat ready so they could all go out to the area. Along the way, Janet commented on how nice it was that Jeff remembered what she liked for breakfast. For a moment her mind flashed back to the most devastating hurricane in the history of southern Florida. A Category Five, one hundred and sixty miles per hour monster, with a storm surge of twenty feet. It blew over, destroyed or swept away with water, everything in sight until it exited the state west end and blew into the gulf. Homestead took the full force of the monster and when Janet arrived she saw the tremendous property damage to businesses and homes, a real killer. She spent three months working around Homestead, all the while hoping she never had to see that much pain and suffering again.

  When Jeff pulled into the fish camp, everyone came out and said, “We’re all here now!” snapping Janet back to the present and away from the ugly memories of the past. But she knew that the current dilemma promised its own set of coming reverie.

  Stan pulled back on the throttle of the twin 125 hp motors and the boat slowly began to pick up speed until it was skimming the surface and humming along at seventy-five mph. He waved to the crew of one of his FMP guard boats and they waved him through the blockade. Janet was well aware of how everyone had described this area, but stood on the boat with a look of a mother seeing a child with burns all over its body. She was horrified to say the least. As scenes of past disasters flashed through her mind, she knew this was different in a way that made her uncomfortable. For one thing, no one had a clue as to what caused the site to be the way it was, nor were they likely to come up with anything soon. What could possibly destroy all of Mother Nature’s creations and leave the naked soil exposed as a virgin stripped of clothes. For a second she reached out to Jeff, as though she felt the need to touch and feel something warn and living.

  “We must get back and get started on our investigation,” she said. “Whatever caused this must be stopped and prevented from happening again. God, can you imagine if this was a populated area, how many would be dead or dying?”

  Janet was happy that Stan had the boat skimming across the water at approaching eighty mph. She wanted to get to the shore ASAP, but most of all, away from the unknown, whatever it was or could be.

  Back at the TV station, Jeff showed her the replays and data on what the Doppler radar had showed the previous morning. “This clearly validates the thunderstorm going across that area, but unless rain or lighting did it, nothing else shows up,” Jeff said.

  “We’ll need copies, so we can verify your information with the FAA at the airport,” Janet said.

  “Did it already. Let’s go see what their screens show.”

  Arrangements had already been made with Harry Carmack, the director of Orlando International Airports, FAA Air Traffic Control Division. He had agreed to see them immediately and would do whatever he could to assist. When they arrived, Harry met them at the control tower entrance and, after exchanging greetings, escorted them into the high security area, then to a remote room that had a radar screen on one side, videotapes that completely lined the opposite wall, and mountains of computer printouts on the table in the center.

  “After you called,” Carmack said, “and explained what you were investigating, I did some preliminary research and found something very interesting. I’ll show you what I mean as we watch the replays of the times you requested as they’re displayed on the CRT.”

  As Carmack was pushing buttons, he gave a brief description of the CRT. “These are the huge forty-year-old cathode ray tube (CRT) screens that display the location of every airplane in the area. The little dots with direction vectors indicate the plane’s position and direction. Next to the dot, the numbers tell the flight number, speed and altitude. After every pass of the radar feed, the screen moves the dots to the current location, letting air traffic controllers see everything in the air at any given moment.

  “Oh, by the way,” Carmack added, “nothing in the past forty years has been shown to be any better than the CRTs we use here.”

  After his brief description Carmack went on, “We know that the wind was from the north yesterday morning, so planes were being brought in from the south. This means approaching traffic would normally be routed into the runway directly over the coordinates of your site. But our data indicates there were small storms in the area and we took the precaution of flying them further south to avoid the thunderstorms. Basically routine stuff.”

  Janet replied, “That would mean that no planes went over that area, which shoots down one theory that something was dropped from an aircraft.”

  Harry added, “Yes, but… Well, this is where I found something very interesting. Come over here and watch the screen as I replay yesterday’s 8:15 to 8:20 a.m. radar readouts.”

  Carmack turned the lights down low and they crowded around the screen. When Harry turned it on, the screen lit up with white dots and numbers on a background of green. The display showed the time in the bottom left hand corner, which indicated Wednesday, July 16, 2001, 08:15:20 hrs. As the time clicked to 08:15:30, all the little dots blinked again, with little movement. Another ten seconds and the screen blinked yet again. “What you’re seeing here is all the aircraft in the air as of 08:15 a.m. yesterday morning.

  “Right…about…here, yes, are the coordinates you gave me,” Harry said, pointing to the top left of the screen with a pencil. “You’ll notice how the dots are coming in from the north and circling away from your area and approaching the runway from almost due south. You’ll notice as the time continues, how the aircraft continue to move in the same pattern, each approaching from the bottom left, turning in a wide circle in the top left and coming straight into the runway. Now watch very carefully as we approach the 08:18:10 time frame.

  “There! Right there! See that white dot directly over your site? Now watch the next frame. Nothing! From that time on, nothing showed again. The dot was there for one frame, no vectors, no numbers, just a white dot.

  “An alarm sounded, warning the controller of something that didn’t belong on the screen, but everything was normal the next frame,” Carmack explained.

  Janet looked at Jeff and then back at the screen, clearly understanding that the dot appeared on the screen well away from any other dots. She asked, “So what does that mean and how often does it happen?”

  Carmack replied, “We have had alarms go off in the past, but not very often. Some we analyze and can find nothing intelligent to say, while others we can explain. Normally, if the alarm goes off only for one radar pass we don’t bother investigating, figuring it’s just a power surge. The only reason I looked at this one was because you called me. The interesting thing about this alarm was we had a second one not more then twenty minutes later.

  “Same situation, only this dot appeared fifteen miles from the first. Again, it was well away from our airplanes, but in the vicinity of the path that same thunderstorm was on.

  “Let me load that tape for you, so you can see the similarity.”

  They watched the screen display the dots with direction vectors almost in the same pattern as the first
tape. The time display on the screen read Wednesday, July 16, 2001, 08:40:10 a.m., and they watched until 08:42:20 when an alarm went off, making Janet flinch. There was another white dot, again no direction or numbers and the next frame it was gone. Almost as one voice, Janet and Jeff said, “What is it?”

  Carmack replied, “I have never seen this before, but you have to understand that, unlike what the government wants you to know, this equipment is old and freakish things happen, though I wouldn’t trade it for some of the new stuff I’ve seen lately. Still, it could be the equipment failing for a second, we’ll never know.”

  Janet said, “So what would missiles shot from a plane look like on the screen? “Would they be picked up at all?” There was a pause but no one said anything. “Forget I said all that. Can you give us the coordinates of that second dot?”

  Once they got the coordinates, Jeff asked if he could check the airport’s Doppler display and compare numbers. As expected, nothing was different. They thanked Carmack as he led them out of the secure area and said they would be in touch.

  Janet waited until reaching the car and said, “Scary to think our nation’s entire air transportation system is being controlled by forty-year-old computers, and alarms are overlooked because of the possibility the machine failed. I say we call Stan and get out to these other coordinates for a look-see.

  “Have you thought about the following: Maybe the machines didn’t fail.”

  Jeff had to agree.

  Using her cell phone, Janet called Stan and asked if he would pinpoint the area of the coordinates and call her back as soon as possible. Ten minutes later her cell phone rang and it was Stan, “I got the location, but it’s very isolated. If you want to check it out, I can have two airboats meet us at 11:00 a.m., just off Route 192, two miles east of Route 15. Jeff knows where I’m talking about.”